


Mutants Have Layers

by play_doh



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, its exactly what it sounds like, started out as a crack fic and at some point became too long to be a joke, who knows anymore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:33:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/play_doh/pseuds/play_doh
Summary: Once upon a time, in a far away swamp, there lived a recluse named Erik whose precious solitude is suddenly shattered by an invasion of annoying mutants. They were all banished from their kingdom by the evil Lord Trask. Determined to save their home (and not to mention his), Erik cuts a deal with Trask and sets out to rescue the Princess of the North to be Trask's bride. Rescuing the Princess may be trivial compared to her deep, dark secret.***parody au





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally wrote this for a friend's birthday, and then as I continued I thought i would give it to her for christmas, and then i never actually gave it to her lol
> 
> no beta we die like men

“Once upon a time, there was a lovely princess. She was beautiful beyond compare, but she had an enchantment upon her of a fearful sort which could only be broken by true love's kiss. She was locked away in a castle guarded by a terrible demon sent straight from hell. Many brave knights had attempted to free her from this dreadful prison, but none prevailed. She waited in the demon's keep in the highest room of the tallest tower for her true love’s kiss...” 

Erik rolls his eyes, closing the children’s book he had found discarded in the woods. “Like that's ever gonna happen. What a load of shit.” He walks back to his house from the woods where he had been chopping down a dead tree earlier. 

“Hey, I heard that creepy old sorcerer lives around here.” a voice drifts through the trees, catching the attention of the lumberjack. He follows it to find three men, seemingly on their way to confront him and probably try to kill him.

“Yeah, that’s right. He’s been on the rampage for too long. Let’s get him!” the one with dark hair says, raising the pitchfork in his hand.

“Whoa, hold on. Don’t you remember from the rumors? He can do some pretty terrifying stuff, apparently.” the man with fiery red hair cautions, holding out a hand to stop the dark-haired member of the group.

“Oh you’re right! He’ll suck the life force out of you. That’s how he’s lived so long and still looks younger than his actual age: 300.” the third man, a fair-haired fellow, adds.

“You forgot to mention that I cut off all your fingers and toes to use as birthday candles. I need all I can get since I’m that old, you know,” Erik says, stepping out from his tree cover. The three men shriek and huddle together in a tight group. “And, don’t forget, I take metal fillings for my personal collection.”

“You won’t lay a hand on my body while I’m still alive, you creepy old sorcerer!” the dark-haired man exclaims, lowering his pitchfork to aim it at Erik’s chest. He guesses the man means to stab it through his heart, but the way his hands are shaking tells him that the pitchfork wouldn’t be much of a problem even without his ability. Erik stares at the weapon and waves his hand, and the pitchfork flings itself across the path to stick into a tree. The men flinch and take a step away from him

“This is the part where you all run away screaming like little children,” Erik supplies, making shooing motions with his hands. The three men scramble over each other before deciding on a way to run. As they go, the blond man drops a piece of paper. He doesn’t look back for it, so the lumberjack reaches down to pick it up and read it. “Wanted: sorcerers, witches, and any kinds of magic users.” 

He sighs and crumples the paper in a fist. Mutants often had to hide their abilities from the public to avoid discrimination. Since Erik was born with an internal manifestation, he never had to physically hide, but he knew of others who had blue skin or fur that were forced out of their homes and villages due to the fear and cowardice of non-mutants. He’s always been distrustful towards homo sapiens, but they hadn’t driven him out of a home. Living out in the woods alone and away from them was Erik’s idea, just so he could get some peace and quiet. He hadn’t thought that people would start rumors about him being a sorcerer, though, even if he secretly thought it was kind of a cool nickname. 

 

Erik likes living alone -- he's not ashamed. Solitude is preferable to the superficial courting of his peers. He’s able to spend his time much more wisely. Because he doesn’t have a loving husband or wife (he wouldn’t really be opposed to either, if he was looking for a companion, but he most definitely isn’t), Erik doesn’t waste time cooking dinner, drawing up bubble baths, lighting candles for late-night reading, or trimming his growing collection of randomly-placed topiaries for anyone except himself. (Bubble baths are for everyone!) 

He has a perfect house, a perfect view, and a perfect life.

Well, okay, except maybe, maybe, if he cares to think about it, Erik gets lonely sometimes. He’d never admit it though, and whenever the thought of finding a companion, platonic or romantic, dares cross his mind, he quickly distracts himself with a new project. Though he refuses to admit it, he needs human contact outside the occasional acknowledging of the mailman bringing spam mail and furniture catalogues, even though Erik never gave anyone his address (Did he even have one?).

Despite this, when he finally does get company one morning, Erik is less than pleased. He’s on his way to find another dead tree to chop down when a silver-haired kid running incredibly fast slams into the lumberjack, causing him to drop his trusty axe. He’s about to verbally attack him when he spots a group of kingdom guards running after him. The kid immediately scrambles up off the ground to hide behind Erik. 

“You there!” the head guard shouts, pointing at Erik. “Sorcerer!” 

The lumberjack raises an eyebrow but says nothing, showing no sign of acknowledging the nickname. When the guards are closer, they stop about ten feet in front of Erik.

“By the order of Lord Trask, I am authorized to place you both under arrest and transport you to a designated resettlement facility in the kingdom. Do not resist, or my men and I will use force!”

The head guard forces eye contact with Erik, and he can see that the man had probably heard the rumors about him from how hard he was trying not to flee the scene.

“Okay, you and what men?” Erik replies, putting one hand on his hip and reaching the other out over the axe. It vibrates, sending out an eerie humming noise before flying into his outstretched palm. 

He raises the tool and leans it against his shoulder before glaring at the rest of the men in the guard. Most of them take a few slow steps back before running off completely. Two of the more loyal of the guard stay behind their captain, but one lets out a whimper. Erik smirks.

“F-fine,” the head guard gulps. “But we’ll be back, y’hear?” he promises, and Erik rolls his eyes. He watches the men back away and as they turn to go, and he hears whispers of freak and monster passed around before they disappear from sight. 

“Wow, that was super cool, dude! Really, listen, man, that was incredible!” the silver-haired boy says, weaving around Erik as he turns to go home. 

“Are you talking to me?” he asks, looking to his right where the boy had just been. Instead, he finds empty space on the dirt path. Shrugging, he turns back to face front and finds the boy right in front of him. “Wh―”

“Yeah, man, who else would I be talking to? Myself?” the boy pauses, considering the fact that he probably had done that before. “Anyway, I just wanted to say, what you did back there was pretty damn cool. You and that axe, like, those guards never even stood a chance! How’d you do that? Are you really a sorcerer? Anyway, it was nice to see those dumbasses run off like that. Made me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.”

“That’s wonderful, really. You’re a mutant, correct?” Erik asks.

“Uh, yeah. I guess.” 

“Okay, then, if you have an ability like the super speed I just saw you use, then why the hell do you think I’d be using magic?” the lumberjack asks in a monotone voice. The boy thinks for a moment.

“That’s fair. Anyway, it’s good to be free.” he says, stretching his arms upwards.

“Why don’t you go celebrate with your own weirdo friends?” Erik suggests, resisting the urge to fling the younger man into the woods and run from him. He realizes that running from a super speed-equipped mutant would be futile, but anything would be better than having to deal with him the whole way home.

“I, uh, well, I don’t really have any,” the kid says, looking down. “And also, I’m not going back out there by myself. I somehow got caught last time, but it’s better sticking with you. You’re the big bad sorcerer! No one crosses you and comes back alive! Or, at least no one comes back with their metal fillings intact.” Erik clenches his teeth and glares at him. He wonders if threatening him would be a crime, but then he realizes he doesn’t care. Lifting the axe quickly, he brings it down to hover about a foot over the kid’s head. It’s vibrating again, but this time it;s at a higher frequency, so the noise is louder. The silver-haired boy barely even blinks.

“Dude, not gonna lie, if I knew you weren’t really gonna kill me, I’d probably running out of these woods, screaming, and pissing my pants. Ten out of ten on your threatening pose. Wanna see mine?” he crouches to pick up a stick before hunching over, scrunching up his face, and baring his teeth while pretending to shank Erik with the makeshift weapon.

“Okay, why are you following me? Did someone send you?” Erik asks, sighing. He resumes his walk back to the house. 

“Nope! I’m a free bird! Well, then I got caught, but I’m free again! I’m just fulfilling that elvish custom, you know? If you free an elf, they have to serve you or whatever.”

“So you have to do whatever I say?”

“Yep!” the kid chirps.

“Okay, then, leave me alone.” the older man replies. The younger deflates a little.

“Hm, okay, let me revise the statement. I’ll do whatever you say within reason. And since I’m not leaving you to be alone in these scary woods, that is not within reason. 

“You know, I’m starting to see why a little shit like you doesn’t have any friends.” Erik sighs. He figures he’s probably sighed about ten times since this kid bumped into him.

“Wow. Only a true friend would be that cruelly honest.” the kid responds, nodding.

“Kid! Look at me! What do you think I am?” Erik asks, exasperated. The silver-haired boy looks him up and down before answering.

“Uh… badass and kinda tall?”

“No! I’m a creepy old sorcerer who lives in the woods alone! Aren’t you scared I’m going to use your fingers and toes as candles for my birthday cake or rip out your metal fillings?” the lumberjack runs a hand through his hair shaking the axe a little in his hand. 

“Well, no. First of all, I don’t even have metal fillings. Secondly, nobody would ever use fingers and toes as candles. That’s gross, man. So, no, you being creepy and old doesn’t really bother me all that much.” the kid says with a shrug.

“Really?” Erik sighs again.

“Really really!” the kid exclaims, giving the older man a double thumbs up, and Erik rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re one cool bean. The way you seem to not care about what anyone says is pretty damn chill. I like you. I’m Peter, by the way. What’s your name? Don’t even think about giving me a fake one unless you want me to call you ‘creepy old sorcerer’.”

“My name’s Erik.” Erik says.

“Erik? With a ‘c’ or a ‘k’?” Peter asks.

“K.” the man says, glancing at Peter and wondering why it matters. “How old are you, by the way. Twelve?” Peter lets out an offended huff.

“Erik! I’m, like, eighteen, or something! But I’m mentally eight, so I’m not actually that offended.” he replies. Erik doesn’t respond as he climbs up the small hill before his house. As the wooden walls of his home come into view, Peter gasps.

“Holy shit, is that a life-size Lincoln Log house? Not as cool as a life-size Lego house would be, but still!”

“No, that’s my house, and I’d appreciate it if you could leave me to do my own things now.” the lumberjack corrects him and moves to open the door.

“Okay, so I’ve got this idea, and I personally think it’s pretty rad, but I’d like for you to give me your input.” the teen asks, drawing out the words slowly. “I could stay here with you and keep you company!”

“That’s a solid no. Go back to wherever the hell you came from, kid.”

“No, please don’t make me go back! You don’t know what it’s like to be singled out and called a freak!” Peter pauses, blinks, and realizes that Erik knows very well, if not more than himself what it feels like. “Okay, so maybe you do. But that’s why I have to stay here with you! Mutants have to stick together. Please!”

“Okay, fine! You can stay here for one night. Just one, and then you leave, is that clear?” Erik relents, and suddenly he regrets his decision. Peter whizzes past him into the house and makes himself comfy on Erik’s favorite recliner. 

“Oh, thanks, man! This is gonna be great! I love team bonding. We can talk about all the times I’ve evaded the cops, and you can talk about all the times you’ve scared the shit outta normies, and in the morning, I’m gonna try to make pancakes!” the teen exclaims, rubbing his hands together in excitement.

“No, no. That’s my chair.” the lumberjack says, waving Peter away. The younger man stands and moves to the side. 

“That’s chill. Where do I sleep, by the way?” he asks, eyes flicking around the room for potential spots.

“Outside.” Erik says, and he turns to check the room for firewood. When he sees that he’s running low, he moves to the door and opens it.

“Wait, what? But there are bugs out there and everything! You really want me to sleep out there?” Peter looks disappointed, but he slowly trudges out the door. 

“Actually, I considered that, but no. I just don’t want you in my house while I’m getting more firewood. You can sleep wherever as long as you don’t bother me or make a mess.” Erik says, and he walks off to split one of the logs by the side of the house. Peter nods and looks around for something to keep him busy. He settles for sitting in front of the door and throwing pebbles at small weeds. When Erik finishes chopping enough wood to last the night, he brings it back to the door. “Kid, can you open this for me?” He waits for a moment, and upon receiving no reply, he flicks a finger and the metal latch opens to let the door swing open. After setting the wood down in the holder, he looks around to find his wrapped food and papers on the usually neat table a mess. “Peter! I thought I told you to stay outside!” he called. A flash of silver appeared by the window.

“What? I did! Can I come in now?” he asked, making a weird puppy-eyed face.

“No, wait a sec,” Erik says slowly, eyeing the mess again. He knows someone has been here, but he hadn’t sensed anyone approaching. He quietly moves around his house, checking in each room for any surprise visitors. When he finds no one, the lumberjack returns to the kitchen and peers out the window at Peter, who has resumed his pebble-throwing game. He’s about to tell him to come in when he hears a sharp “crack” behind him. Whirling around, Erik finds a man who’s got red skin head to toe (well, as far as Erik can tell). He’s also pretty sure he can see a tail swishing around behind him.

“Good bread,” the man says in a thick accent, sliding his hand into the open bread bag on the table and taking a slice. 

“What the hell are you doing in my house?” Erik asks slowly, reaching out with his power to feel for any metal on the man’s clothes. He senses that the buttons are made of steel, which means that in a pinch he can use them to pin the man down.

“Oh, you know.” the man shrugs, and he gives Erik a sly grin before disappearing in a cloud of red and black mist. He looks around to see where the man has gone, but as he turns, Erik bumps into someone else.

“Whoops, sorry,” a feminine voice says, and the lumberjack finds a young woman lodged between him and the wall. He takes a few steps back and away from her.

“How the hell did you get there?” he asks, more confused than after seeing the red man disappear.

“I walk through walls and stuff,” she says like it’s no big deal. Erik wonders why she bumped into him, then, if she could walk through ‘stuff’, but he doesn’t ask. He begins to tell her to leave his house when he hears an explosion from the bathroom. When he rushes in to see the problem, Erik finds a young man with styled brown hair and red-lensed sunglasses. The glasses have one long lens the whole length across, so he supposes it would be... a sunglass. The ceiling behind and above the young man smokes, and it’s partially gone.

“Sorry, I was fixing my hair and my glasses slipped.” he apologizes, giving the lumberjack a quick grin. Erik groans, grabs the back of the young man’s jacket, and drags him to the door. Without a word, he opens the door to let him out, but the sight that greets Erik makes him step out before his uninvited guest. Swarms of people move across his front lawn, all talking or arguing loudly. He looks around in dismay, shaking his head. 

“Whoa, who said you all could be here?” the lumberjack bellows, but his voice fails to conquer the noise being made by his uninvited guests. He wanders out a bit to take in the full extent of the crowd before turning back to his house. He pushes a few men and women aside to get back to the door, from which he spots his pantry being raided and even a few daring teenagers putting their feet up on the table. One seems to be chilling a glass of who knows what with his bare hands, and another lights the fire without a striking a match. “Get the hell out of my house!” he tries again, but he only gets a few annoyed looks from the people closest to him. As he muscles his way over to his bedroom door and opens it, Erik spots the person he thought would be responsible for the unexpected house party.

“Whoa, hey Erik! I saw people coming in and I thought I could catch some shut-eye before I have to sleep on the cold, hard ground.” Peter says, curled up in the corner of the bed. He’s the only person in the room, which was almost a nice gesture if it had been to keep people out of his sleeping area instead of the teen keeping it for himself.

“Peter! I knew you would be the one behind all this! Get all of your goddamn friends out of my house!” he speaks loudly over the surrounding noise. Peter laughs uncomfortably before putting on a more serious face.

“Okay, so maybe I shouldn’t have come inside the house, even though other people were doing it, but I don’t know them. Well, I’ve seen a couple here and there, but they’re not my friends. I already told you that I… didn’t have any,” the teen trails off at the end. 

“I don’t give a damn,” Erik begins, but Peter holds up a hand. The look in his eyes makes the lumberjack pause to let him speak.

“Okay, I’m sorry that this all happened today, but I think they’re here for a reason. Why don’t you go ask them?” the silver-haired boy suggests, and for once Erik reluctantly agrees with him. He leaves his room with Peter following behind and exits his house to stand in front of the crowd. 

“Hey!” Erik shouts, and a few people turn to look at him. He glances at the axe he places near the door and remembers the humming noise. Peter follows his gaze and zips the tool over to him, which begins to vibrate and hum as soon as it leaves the teen’s hands. Erik works the metal until it’s unbearably loud and hot to the touch. When he stops, his entire yard is quiet enough to address. “What are you doing in my forest?”

A woman with deep blue skin and piercing yellow eyes steps forward.

“There’s a new sentence in the kingdom of Mutatia by Lord Trask. He wants us put in ‘resettlement’ facilities in the kingdom.” she says.

“Is there a problem with that?” Erik replies, and the woman rolls her eyes. 

“Yes, obviously, or we wouldn’t be here crashing your house party. Trask doesn’t want us in the kingdom for no reason. He wants to study our physiology and abilities. I think he is building a weapon to even playing field between us and the humans in preparation for some kind of battle.”

“What do you mean ‘abilities’?” Erik asks cautiously.

“We’re the same as you. Wizards, superhumans, sorcerers, mutants: whatever the term, Trask fears for the day when we’ll rise up and take control of the throne, so he’s getting rid of the people he thinks will stand up to him. Trask is merciless. I have seen what he has done in pursuit of knowledge, and it is not kind.”

This comment makes Erik furrow his brows. He almost asks how the kingdom’s affairs have anything to do with him before he remembers the men who had trespassed on his land earlier.

“Okay, but why do you have to be here, on my property and in my house?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. A young woman with fiery red hair steps forward.

“Erik, am I right?” she asks, and the lumberjack finds himself nodding before he can even wonder how she could possibly have known his name. “I’m Jean. Do you think we came here, to this isolated spot in the woods, for no reason? We knew you’d be here, and we’ve all heard the rumors. You’re a mutant with a powerful gift, and you can use it to stop Trask, or at least force him to listen to what you have to say. Once you do so, we can all go back to the kingdom and we won’t bother you anymore.” The lumberjack considers the offer before nodding slowly.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but only to get you all out of my forest.” he agrees. “Does anyone know where this Trask is?”

People glance at each other, and a couple even try to throw each other under the bus by pointing at different people. A girl in a bright yellow jacket begins to raise her hand excitedly, but the boy next to her with curly blonde hair pushes it down. Peter appears suddenly with a rush of wind and jumps up and down.

“Oh, I know!” he exclaims. 

“Does anyone else know?” Erik tries again. He really doesn’t want to be stuck with the hyperactive speedster again, but it looks like no one else will volunteer.

“I got you, man! I know the way!” Peter gives Erik finger guns, and he sighs.

“Fine. Listen up, everyone! Your welcome is officially worn out. I’m going to go see Trask and get him to change his mind and law and get you all off my land. Do not get comfortable here, because you’ll all be leaving to go back to wherever you came from soon!” Erik announces. The crowd remains silent for a moment after he finishes talking. Then, after the girl wearing the yellow jacket begins to clap, the movement catches like fire and suddenly the whole front yard ripples with applause. Erik raises an internal eyebrow, somewhat surprised that his improvised threat-speech actually worked, but pleased nonetheless. Soon he’d be on his way to get rid of these annoying people forever. “Peter, you better not be a little shit during this trip.”

“You can’t just ask me to change my entire personality, man. Suck it up. Just accept the fact that you’re not getting rid of me just yet.” the teen grins, crossing his arms to imitate Erik, who considers the statement for a moment before slowly nodding.

“Just try not to talk too much, then. We should head out now.” the lumberjack says, pushing past the crowd and turning to the path out of the woods. Peter pokes him.

“Actually, it’s this way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stanchion ropes are those barrier thingys at the movie theaters. u kno the ones.

After two hours of walking endlessly and listening to Peter ramble on about various different topics, Erik decides he needs a break. He finds a nicely shaded tree on the side of the road and sits down under it.

“So that’s when I get serious, right? And I bust out my secret move, and― whoa, hey, what’s the hap?” the teen interrupts himself and gives his companion a confused look. Erik rolls his eyes so forcefully he feels like his eyeballs might actually fall out.

“I’m resting.” he says slowly, and Peter shrugs, nods, and plops down beside him.

“Alright, I’ll just finish my story here, then.”

“No. No more talking. You’ve made enough noise to wear out my ears for a year, kid.” Erik groans, and the teen grins slyly. 

“Okay, I won’t talk.”

The pair sits in silence for about two minutes before the younger starts to sing.

“Sweet dreams are made of this, who am I to disagree,” Peter starts out softly. Erik groans and hits the back of his head against the tree trunk. “I travel the world and the seven seas,”

“Stop, that’s not what I meant.” Erik begins, but this time he’s the one who gets cut off. Peter leaps up and swings an arm around like he’s inviting his companion to dance with him.

“Everybody’s lookin’ for something,”

Erik sighs and looks around briefly to see if there’s any passerby who could help him out of this predicament. Then, after remembering they’ve been alone for the past two hours, gives up and allows Peter to pull him up. He continues singing and tries to swing Erik around, but the older man removes his hand from the grip as soon as he’s standing. 

“No, we’re not doing that. Let’s get a move on, I want to get as far as we can before it’s dark.” he says in a flat voice, starting to walk again. Peter pretends like he doesn’t hear the grumpy man’s statement and continues his performance. 

“Some of them want to use you, some of them want to get used by you; some of them want to abuse you, some of them want to be abused,” he croons, twirling around in his own little world of music. Erik watches as the teen’s path grows closer and closer to a dip in the road, and soon it sends him tumbling to the ground.

“That’s what you get for being annoying, kid.” he says, expressionless. 

“Okay, that was just rude.” Peter huffs, picking himself up and returning to his walking spot next to the lumberjack.

“Well, you shouldn’t be singing annoying songs when I told you to stop,” Erik retorts, snorting. The teen looks offended.

“Dude! You’re not my dad, you can’t tell me what to do!”

“Kid, I’m just thinking about who or what knows we’re here because you’re singing pretty loudly. We could be ambushed by that Trask guy without even hearing them coming.”

“I know what I got myself into, old man.”

“No, you don’t! Have you ever used your powers in combat? What would you do if we got attacked?” the lumberjack glares.

“I haven’t used them like that, no,” the teen admits before furrowing his brows and crossing his arms. “But I could figure it out, man. Even if I was in trouble, you’d help me out.”

“You don’t know that, Peter. You barely even know me!” Erik snaps. 

“I know plenty! I know you live alone because you think you’re alone in this world, and you’re lonely as hell, but you pretend to be grumpy because you refuse to admit it. I know you’re tired of solitude, but you’re too afraid of companionship to fix that.” Peter says in an accusatory voice. The older man doesn’t respond. Instead, he focuses his glare sharply down the path and tries to ignore the statement. He doesn’t know how the kid came up with that shit of a statement, or even if what he said was true. If you spend years trying to deny something about yourself, does it become a reality? 

“I know you won’t say anything because it’s true, old man. And for the record, there are plenty of people who are just looking for companionship out there, just like you. If you just―”

“I think it takes a loner to know one,” Erik interrupts curtly. “And I also think that the sun’s setting, so I’m going to find a place to sleep. You can continue psychoanalyzing me if you want to sleep on the cold, hard ground.” He stalks off a bit into the forest to look for something to build a shelter with. Peter looks after him and begins to say something before deciding against it. Instead, he silently follows the older man. He tries not to feel bad for exposing Erik like that but he also feels a bitter pit in his core reminding him that they are not so different. If he was expecting to bond with the man because of their loneliness, he was mistaken. Neither of the men speaks for a while, paying more attention to the sticks on the ground than to each other. Eventually, when Peter’s feeble stick fort falls in on itself, Erik sighs and pushes him away to fix a small lean-to for him.

“Don’t stay up. Busy day tomorrow.” the older man says curtly before going over to his own temporary shelter. Peter curls up under his sticks and tries not to think about the fact that he and Erik would soon be confronting the most powerful man he will ever have stepped within 10 feet of.

***

In a dimly lit room, a tall man in a black suit stands in front of a long table. The surface of the table extends far longer than any normal table should, and it’s made of cold metal that the muscled beast of a man strapped to it tries to arch away from. The man unfolds his arms from his chest and gives the beast an almost sadistic grin.

“If you won’t speak, I can always resort to more… extreme measures, Logan.” he says, holding up a syringe filled with a clear yet somehow intimidating substance. The captive turns his head, and the man goes to press the crook of his arm down to administer the drug.

“Wait, William. That will be sufficient, I believe it will speak now.” a voice from the doorway startles both of the people in the room. The man, William, draws away from Logan immediately. A vertically challenged man in a sharp brown suit enters the room.

“Yes, Mr. Trask. I’ll just put this back into storage?” he asks, already stepping to the storage refrigerator. Trask nods at his assistant before pressing a button on the side of the table. A series of small steps appear to allow the man to view his captive.

“Good afternoon, Logan,” he begins.

“Cut the crap, Trask. My body’s telling me it’s around midnight.” Logan spits, bitter yet still in control of his emotions. The short man laughs.

“Ever the observer, aren’t you, mutant?” Trask gives the man a genuine smile before slamming a hand down on the cold metal of the tabletop. “I’ll give you this last chance to tell me where the other mutants are hiding, hm?” 

Logan purses his lips, looking as if he's considering selling his fellow brothers and sisters out before he growls loudly in Trask’s face. William, leaning against the far wall, bites back an amused smirk, and the short man closes his eyes and breathes in and out deeply for a moment.

“Okay, fine. William, how’s your special project coming along?” he asks.

“It’s almost ready to be put to the test. If you’d like to put this creature under my care I’d gladly take him. The procedure will not be a pleasant one, either, if you think he still needs some motive to speak for you.” William says, pushing off the wall. A greedy glint in his eye gives Logan a sinking feeling in his gut, but he still refuses to give Trask the information he so desires.

“Well? How about it, mutant? Will you tell me where your little friends are, or would you like to visit my colleague’s laboratory?” Trask asks, clasping his hands together, Logan struggles to pull his hands free from the bonds tying him to the table, and when unsuccessful, extends his middle claw to flip off the small scientist. “Have it your way, then,”

“I’ll take it from here.” William says, forcing the excited expression off his face. He exits into the hall for a short moment and then returns with a group of men in lab coats and one in a black suit. The suited man makes a beeline for Trask. The short man takes his stairs down to the floor and crosses to meet the lab coat man while the others wheel Logan’s table out of the room. “Oh, and Trask? Please try to be more professional. Call me by my last name in the workplace.”

“Fine. Take your experiment and get out of here, Stryker.” Trask says, clearly more interested in the new arrival than Stryker’s work. Once all of Stryker's men leave, the lab coat man speaks.

“Sir, your men have captured quite the specimen,” he begins.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Bring her in!” he exclaims, and the lab coat man opens the lab doors to allow five more people to enter. Four bulky men in suits hold a blonde woman in white in chains, pushing her forward until she stands in front of Trask. “Hello, mutant. Welcome to the interrogation room!”

The woman glares at Trask.

“She’s not much of a chatterbox, I’m afraid,” the lab coat man says apologetically. Trask shakes his head.

“That’ll change soon enough. Now,” he pauses to point to the wall behind him where a frame laced with thick metal chains stands. “If you men could strap her into that containment machine, I’d like to ask her some questions.”

Before anyone moves, the woman closes her eyes and allows her skin to transform into a glittering, gem-like material. The men do as instructed after her shift, and soon the glittering woman stands against the cold, stone wall, draped in chains like scarves.

“Hello, and welcome to my kingdom. I’ve heard quite a lot about you, Miss Emma Frost.” Trask says, smiling. Emma remains silent, so he continues. “Now, I’ve heard that you have telepathy abilities, correct? As well as this transformation power you’ve so brilliantly displayed.” 

“This is not your kingdom, Trask.” Emma says icily, keeping her rock-hard glare focused on the smaller man.

“Au contraire, I am the Lord here, so it is, in fact, under my control.” he responds.

“It is currently under your control, yes, but you do not own this kingdom, and you never will unless you are its king. Until you marry, you will never control this land.”

Trask pauses for a moment to consider Emma’s statement. The woman closes her eyes again and concentrates for a moment. Everyone in the room doubles over in pain for a split second. The men rush around in an attempt to shield their boss from her ‘attack’, but the pain subsides soon after its commencement.

“I understand you’d like to search for your bride, then.” she says in a voice sharper than the pain the others in the room had felt a moment ago. 

“So you’ve just read our minds, right? How very interesting,” Trask mutters, making a mental note to give the woman a full examination later. Her DNA could unlock an extremely effective type of telepathic interrogation that could prove to be very useful in the future.

“Let’s say I am. What do you have to say about it?” he answers.

“I happen to know of a couple damsels in need of rescuing and marrying,” Emma says. Her expression shows the fact that she disagrees with her previous statement, but Trask is too busy studying her diamond-like skin to notice. “Three, to be exact. The first is a fierce woman with blue skin and fiery red hair. She is often called the Flame of the East Forest, which is where her home is, but she is a woman who does not stay in one place for very long. She is very spirited and free-willed, and she does not tolerate anyone’s bullshit. She will not be easy to win over.” Trask pulls out a notepad and jots down a few sentences.

“Noted, but continue.” he prompts the blonde woman.

“The second is a mysterious woman. She lives deep in the caves in the Stormy Mountains and has been considered the source of the terrible hurricanes that plague the area. Some call her the Witch of the Stormy Mountains, or just Storm. She is powerful, and she is dangerous, but if you win her affections she will use that power to protect you.”

“Sounds like a little more effort and strain on my resources than I can handle at the moment with all those search parties out. I will, in fact, look into her at a later date. Sounds like a mutant I’d like to get my hands on. For research purposes, that is.” Trask says under his breath. Emma pauses in her descriptions to think of a third mutant woman who could possibly dispose of Trask as he goes on his sickening journey for a ‘lady love’ to gain ownership of the kingdom. She smiles icily as an idea forms in her head.

“The last is a fiercely loyal, stubborn yet incredibly kind... woman. She lives in a high tower in a castle surrounded by defenses of all sorts, including the deadly demon of the night. They call her the Princess of the North. She is said to have a curse cast on her by an evil spirit to allow her to know the trues wishes of every suitor, and she knows exactly how to please each one. Many men seeking this princess have lost their lives in an attempt to rescue her, but you may be the first to complete this quest if you wish to be.”

“Yes, excellent idea. By your description, Womam Three sounds like the best match for me. She seems docile enough so that I could be in control without her meddling. I’d rather not risk my own life finding her, though. I have too many important projects to be working on.”

Emma Frost smiles as her plans fall into place. Trask doesn’t notice because he’s too engrossed in his note-taking to look up.

“Find a champion, then.” 

***

When the sun rises, Peter cracks open one eye to find that Erik’s stick fort has been scattered across the forest floor. The man himself is missing, which the silver speedster worries about for a moment before he hears the accented voice speak.

“If we’re going to make good time we should leave now,” the lumberjack says. Peter sits up abruptly, ruining his own shelter, and spots the older man sitting by a small fire across the clearing. Upon seeing the teen’s awakening, Erik rises and stamps out the flame.

“Okay, sure, man. I’m hungry anyway, so the sooner we get to Mutatia, the sooner I can refill the tank.” the teen says tentatively. He’s almost afraid to speak to Erik too familiarly due to the older man’s not-quite-outburst the night before, but he figures if worst comes to worst he can just run. Peter does that with all his other problems, anyway, 

Erik leads the way out of the forest and back to the road and Peter takes the lead again. Both men walk for an overbearingly quiet ten or so minutes before Erik speaks. The lumberjack’s never had a problem with quiet, but the kind he’s used to is a peaceful kind of quiet. This silence makes him want to wiggle away into the earth like a worm to escape it.

“I’m not going to apologize for what happened last night,” he begins almost awkwardly. He sees Peter’s head shoot up from its previous position fixed at the ground.

“Well, then, neither am I. Let’s just…” the teen sighs. “This is too awkward, man. I’m not good at creating silence like you are, I’m only good at filling it.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I guess we balance each other out, then,” Erik says, and they both smile. Erik’s fades, probably because he’s not used to holding expressions for very long, but Peter wears his like a badge of honor. He switches between humming an unidentifiable song and talking about random encounters with the kingdom guards for the next hour until the tall kingdom gates finally come into view. The only thing in the duo’s way is a corn field, which Erik presses into immediately. He emerges on the other side in a carriage lot outside the gate, Peter on his heels.

“Hey, that’s it!” he exclaims, pointing to the castle. I told you I knew how to get here.”

“And I believed you enough to let you guide me here. It’s a rather excessively tall building, though. He’s definitely compensating for something.” Erik says, expressionless. Peter hollers loudly before an impressed look takes over his face. 

“Dude, a joke? I didn’t know you had it in you!” he whoops, skipping towards the gate. Erik feels the edges of his mouth twitch upwards, but shakes his head to halt the oncoming expression and follows the younger boy. He stops at a neatly placed row of stanchion ropes and watches as the man who probably was on guard duty scrambles away from Erik, clearly aware of the forest sorcerer rumors, following the ropes’ long, winding path. The lumberjack sticks out a hand and moves the metal poles forward, following behind his new path. Eventually he steps up to the cowering guard at the gate and stares him directly in the eyes.

“Open the gate, or I’ll do it for you.” he says. The man makes no move to pull the lever to raise the kingdom door, but Peter zips over and pulls it for him.

“Very intimidating. Almost got a little scared before I remembered that I’m on this mission with you.” the teen comments, and Erik shakes his head.

“This kingdom is full of cowards. Let’s just get this over with and get out of here before we have every citizen shitting their pants at the sight of us.”

“Dude, it’s not me those guards were scared of. They’ve probably seen me before, or someone like me, one way or another. You’re the big M, the mutant with no name. The mysterious and powerful sorcerer from the middle of the forest. Nobody knows who you are, and that’s scary.”

“If the people of this kingdom agree with Trask’s sentence, then they should fear me,” Erik says, raising an eyebrow. “But not to this extent.” He waves an arm to gesture at the empty streets. All the houses have closed doors and windows and there isn’t a human sound besides the duo in the center of the street. Peter pauses to check out the eerie silence and glances around quickly before pointing to an information board.

“Look,” he says before zipping over and back. He clenches a pamphlet in his hand, which he holds up for the older man to read.

“Champion of Mutatia: Could you be the hero who saves Mutatia?” Erik reads, furrowing his eyebrows. “What the hell—”

A procession of loud fanfare interrupts his exclamation. 

“I bet that’s where everyone is right now!” Peter exclaims, ripping the flyer out of Erik’s hand. “Let’s see what’s happening!” He takes off in the direction of the noise and the older man follows behind more slowly. When he sees Peter as a solid body rather than a blur of color passing by, he’s standing near the entrance of what looks like a Colosseum. “Let’s go in and win! I bet there’s money or something involved. Or maybe something better?”

“We’re just here to bully that Trask guy around until he changes his shit-ass law and gets all those people off of my property. Don’t get caught up in something entirely different.” the lumberjack warns.

“Hey, technically, you were the one who agreed to that. I was only supposed to show you how to get here. But I won’t be joining any competition, don’t worry. I can get whatever I want using my skill and boyish charms.” the teen says, pursing his lips.

“What ‘boyish charms’? You’re not young enough for that anymore, kid.” Erik rolls his eyes and starts into the arena.

“Hey, you’d be surprised…” Peter shrugs and follows his travelling companion. The glare of the white stone and the roar of the crowd stuns the two men before any of the events going on inside the amphitheater can register in their minds. Rows upon rows of citizens are stacked up like toys on shelves in a circular formation surrounding a center area, where a reasonably large sized group of armed men stand. Above them on an elevated platform separate from the crowd stands an incredibly short man in some sort of ridiculous-looking regal suit.

“Brave warriors, brave soldiers, brave men,” the man announces, stepping forward. “You, the best and brightest in all the land, shall compete in a trial today and prove yourself worthy of the honor— no, the privilege to go forth and rescue the lovely and mysterious Princess of the North from the shadowy claws of the demon of the night! If, for any reason, my champion fails to complete the task, the first runner-up will take his place, and so on and so forth. Some of you may die, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make for the sake of the kingdom. Now, without any further ado, let the tournament begin!”

Erik and Peter give each other a confused look before the elder steps into the center of the Colosseum. Peter scurries along behind him and stands at his side. The short man starts and gasps quickly before taking a step backwards.

“Oh! Who are those men? They does not belong to my kingdom, or I would know their names!” he cries.

“Lord Trask, it seems as if your visitor comes from a place beyond the kingdom,” one of Trask’s advisors leans over to tell the lord of Mutatia.

“I see,” Trask nods before turning to the small table beside him. “Good thing I brought my mutant-reader. Let’s see who these trespassers really are.” He presses a button on the side of the handheld device, and it makes a beeping noise. Trask points it at the lumberjack and the teen, and the light on the device turns red before it starts beeping much more loudly.

“That’s what I thought,” Trask smiles wickedly. “New plan! The man who captures those two mutants will be my champion!” The entire arena pauses for a quiet moment before the audience roars with encouragements and the crowd of knights turn and charge towards Erik and Peter.

“Really?” Erik sighs, and he moves his hand up to swipe away the metal weapon each man is holding.

“No, dude, you can’t use your power! Some of them are wearing full-body armor! You’ll kill them! Just do some ninja moves or something.” Peter says, shaking the older mutant’s arm rapidly.

“I can’t fight without my powers, kid. That’s why I have them. And you don’t even know the extent at which I control them, which is good, I suppose. Don’t worry.”

The teen nods with a worried expression before disappearing and reappearing on Erik’s other side. The charging men are all turned and running in the opposite direction, and they all stop when they find they’re somehow facing the wrong way. Some spin around and one man points to the pair and shouts, and then they’re charging again. 

“Let’s just get this over with” Erik says, and he reaches out to the cold and metal blades in the kingdom guards’ and men’s hands. They tremble slightly at first before beginning to glow with heat from the vibrations. The group collectively hisses and drops their swords and miscellaneous metal objects to the ground with a clatter. When they bend to pick them back up cautiously, Peter runs by and pushes them off balance.

“Trask!” Erik shouts. The knights on the ground scramble to stand, but the short man on the balcony raises a hand to stop them from resuming their ‘fight’.

“What is it you want, mutant?” he replies. 

“You’ve created a law which forces the mutants of this kingdom to be relocated to contained facilities here, am I correct?” the lumberjack asks.

“Yes, and do you know why? It’s because you’re dangerous, which you have just proven. Look at my champion contenders. They couldn’t even lift a finger to stop you. I’m still allowing mutants to live here, just under closer supervision to make sure everyone is safe.” the lord of the kingdom speaks in an even tone, and the crowd roars in agreement after he stops speaking.

“Really? Then why have all my fellow brothers and sisters fled from your so-called ‘safe kingdom relocation homes’?” Erik raises an eyebrow at the much shorter man, which he isn’t completely sure he’ll see, but he does it anyway out of spite. Trask looks like he’s going to respond, but he pauses for a moment before snapping his fingers and looking out over the crowd.

“Oh, I’ve got a brilliant idea. People of Mutatia, I give you our champion!” he says, gesturing to the lumberjack standing in the center of the open space below. 

“What?” both Erik and Peter speak in unison.

“Congratulations, mutant. You're won the honor of embarking on a great and noble quest.” Trask speaks to the crowd again before focusing his speech on the duo. “I have a deal to propose to you, champion. If you go retrieve the Princess of the North and bring her here safely, I’ll think about changing my law so that mutants don’t have to live in camps here.”

Erik’s fists clench when he hears that the ‘relocation homes’ are camps, but when Peter nudges his arm he takes a breath and lets it out slowly.

“Listen up, Trask. I’ll go stupid quest for you, and you’ll make it so that the mutants who live in Mutatia, the mutants who have lived here their whole lives, and the mutants yet to come will live here without being bothered by some dumbass rules about their genetics.” the man says, much more of a command than an offer.

“Fine, I accept.” Trask answers almost smugly.

“So, what kind of quest is this?” Peter asks, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet. “If there are dragons involved, I’m in!” The lord of Mutatia lets his mouth form a grin like the Cheshire Cat.

“There aren’t any dragons, but you’ll definitely run into the wicked demon of the darkness.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> nothin' to see here
> 
> also I forgot to mention this before but if u haven’t figured it out yet this is based on shrek

“Okay, dude, let me get this straight. You’re gonna fight a freakin’ demon to save some lady love of the most evil dude ever just so he can play you and get exactly what he wants? You know, actually, for someone of your age and probably vast experience, you would know he’s trying to take advantage of this quest. He’s probably looking into your past now, finding out where you live, and rounding up all those poor mutants who you let crash there until we return. You probably just want everyone gone so you can keep up your reputation as the mysterious woodland wizard.” Peter accuses with a glare as soon as they pass through the kingdom gates.

“Your ability may be damn helpful at times, but when you use it to run your mouth like that I think I could definitely live without it.” Erik scoffs, ignoring the jab.

“Erik, I just don’t get it. Why can’t you just pull some of that metal magic and float a knife or weapon near him? That’d be pretty threatening. You could get what you want and then just leave.” Peter asks, shaking his head.  
“Oh yeah, and in the process I’d fling the knife around and slit all of those humans’ throats. Maybe to keep up with my sorcerer reputation I could collect the blood and take a bath in it or something, maybe even drink some out of a skull. How does that sound?”

“Gonna be honest with you, man, that does not sound like a fun activity.” Peter admits.

“Okay, then. There’s just… even if you do know more about me than preferable, there’s also a lot you haven’t figured out. There’s more to the creepy woodland sorcerer than people think.” the lumberjack says.

“Like what?” Peter challenges.

“Like… well, It’s a bit complex. I’m not sure how to explain myself.” Erik thinks about all the things in his forest he sees every day and produces the image of the little corner behind his house where the small, resilient patch of green onions grows. “Okay, then, I guess I’m like an onion,” he starts.

“Because you have layers!” Peter butts in excitedly.

“Yes— well, no.”

“Oh, because you’re kinda spicy?”

“No—”

“Because not that many people like you!”

“Peter!” Erik gives the younger boy a look before continuing. “Green onions are perennials, which means they sprout up every year behind my house even though I pick them all the time. Try as I might, I can’t get rid of them, so instead of trying to destroy the plant I learned to cook with it. Turns out they’re quite good for flavoring. The point is, I’m not easy to get rid of, and if you stick around long enough, maybe you’ll learn to appreciate the flavors I bring to the table.”

“Fuck, man, that was one damn weird turn at the end of your analogy there. But I get it, I think.” the teen gives Erik a thumbs-up. 

“Good.” the older man says, shaking his head as he continues on. 

When the sun begins to set, the pair comes to the end of the field they’d been walking through all day. Erik looks around for a place to make a shelter or just for some cover to sleep under, but all around them is an open field.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to sleep under just the moon tonight, kid.” Erik says, giving the younger a shrug.

“I’d rather sleep in the wilderness with a survival expert than by myself, so as long as you don’t let a frickin’ bear or something attack me, I’m fine with that.” Peter says with a shrug, zipping around to gather some grasses and other cushion-like sorts of plants. Erik wants to comment on how he could easily escape from a bear or anything else by running, but he decides against it. “Anyway, I’m glad the moon is so bright tonight. I won’t need my night light, y’know?”

As he lies on the almost-soft grass, Erik glances up and notices how full and bright the moon is, and for the first time, he doesn’t feel as lonely as she is.

In the morning, the sun proves to be much harsher than the moon by sending its rays to pester the closed eyelids of both mutants. Erik flexes his arms and legs before sitting up and looking around. Peter is lying face-down, doing some weird yoga stretches. Once he notices the other’s movement, the teen flips over and yawns.

“I guess we should get crack-a-lackin’!” he exclaims, jumping to hs feet. Erik groans internally as he rises, feeling the effects of sleeping on the ground in his stiff knees and back. “How much farther is it, anyway?”

“I don’t know the exact distance, Peter, but I hope you do realize you could probably get us there in less than five seconds.” Erik points out, stifling the yawn he caught from the younger of the pair.

“There’s no fun in that,” the teen sings, smiling and closing his eyes to feel the sun. While the morning air brings a slight chill, the rays from the sun penetrate his skin and flow into his being like a stream of energy. His eyes glimmer with a fascinated excitement as he realized their task for the day.

“I didn’t bring anything to eat since I thought we would just be taking a trip to the kingdom and back,” Erik comments, noticing Peter’s stomach rumble quietly. The silver-haired speedster grimaces and pats his abdomen.

“Running on empty for a little while then, I guess,” he says, shrugging slightly. "Just so you know, the longer I go without food, the slower I get."

"Is that a threat?" the lumberjack raises an eyebrow at the younger. 

"No, man, of course not. I just wanted to let you know since we're heading into the den of a demon. We're gonna have to fight him, you know. Or her, actually." Peter pauses to shudder. "I really hope the demon isn’t lady demon, because those chicks are crazy scary. I met one in the capital city once and she absolutely kicked my ass in Scrabble. I may or may not have cried a little."

"Not to burst your bubble but I think a lot of people could beat you in a game of Scrabble."

"That's fair. But she also bought me ice cream after and gave me a few pointers, so I can safely say she was also probably the nicest woman I've ever met. Maybe you'll be able to reason with the demon and get the princess without a fight."

"Let's not decide the demon is a woman before we meet them, kid." Erik says, shaking his head. He looks up at the endless blue sky and holds a hand up to shield his eyes. He watches Peter’s shadow as the teen skips around a bit ahead of him. “It should be around seven in the morning right now, so if we make good time we can be back in the kingdom by tomorrow afternoon.”

“That time is probably excluding bathroom and food breaks, though, so it should really be longer,” the teen argues, slowing to fall into stride next to the lumberjack.

“Again, not that we have anything to eat during said ‘food breaks’,” Erik adds, sighing. 

“Dude, you’re so worried about the food. Chillax, let’s just get to the castle and rescue the pretty lady. I’m sure Trask will have some kind of banquet or whatever for when we return.”

“You don’t need to reassure me, kid. I’ve gone days without eating. I’m just worried about your complaining.” 

Peter laughs and attempts to do a cartwheel, which he completely fails at but still somehow manages to make it seem so on purpose. He continues attempting to do parkour, and Erik secretly cracks a small smile. While the persistent teen is probably the most annoying person he’d ever met, the lumberjack had to admit he was good company. They somehow balanced each other out, and yet Erik could definitely see bits of himself in the kid. His unwillingness to seek out company happened to be at the forefront of these traits. At least they’d have someone new to talk to on the way back. Maybe Peter would take a shining to the princess and bother her instead. Erik sighs and kicks at the overgrown grass. After the mission, he’d go back to living alone in the forest. He wouldn’t have to deal with Peter ever again, and all those mutants would never cross his unofficial property line for the rest of his life. This should make him happy, but somehow Erik feels uneasy at the thought. He brushes the thought into the corner of his mind and focuses on the journey instead.

After a short while, the pair finally arrives at the princess’s castle. It’s made of stone and vines crawl up its towers like snakes. In the area surrounding the structure, jagged, blackened slabs of stone jut out from what used to be a moat. They almost look like teeth. At the bottom of the moat, a thin trickle of a dark liquid runs a winding path through the rocks and disappears around the bend. Erik wonders what it is before deciding he doesn’t want to know. After a quick glance, he notices a thin rope bridge stretching across the divide.

“Dope castle,” Peter comments. “How’re we getting in?”

“That’s our way across,” he says, pointing. Peter’s eyes narrow and he shakes his head.

“Dude, I’m gonna have to pass. I don’t think that bridge is really up to my standards,”

“Standards for what?” Erik sounds exasperated. He crosses his arms.

“Y’know…” the teen trails off before noticing the older man’s steely gaze. “I’d really rather not get near that unstable death trap.”

“You can’t tell me you’re afraid of heights. Peter! You can just run across! You’d be over with it in less than a second.”

“I’m not scared of heights! I’m just slightly uncomfortable about being on a flimsy bridge over deadly stone pikes!” Peter’s eyes widen slightly when he looks down, and he quickly snaps his gaze up to the sky. Erik sighs quietly and raises an eyebrow.

“Come on, kid. I'll be right here beside you, okay? For moral support, or whatever makes you feel better. We'll just... tackle this bridge together, one little baby step at a time.”

Peter seems surprised by the older man’s words. He bites his lip to suppress a grin, and Erik can see the sparkle in his eyes.

“Really?” he asks. The man of metal rolls his eyes as he feels the edges of his own lips twitch upwards.

“Really really.”

Peter obviously feels much better about crossing the moat, so he turns and practically skips to the bridge. Erik contemplates telling him not to look down before figuring that he probably already knows not to. The lumberjack follows him onto the bridge, and the two slowly make it to about halfway across until Peter stumbles slightly and looks down to adjust his footing.

“Oh man, Erik? I changed my mind. You gotta let me off this thing. Pronto.” he says, voice trembling slightly.

“Just don’t look! We’re closer to the other side. Just keep going and you’ll be off sooner.”

“My speed allows me to do a lot of things, but flying is not one of them. If I fall, I—”

“Peter! Look at me!” Erik grabs the teen’s shoulders and turns him so that they’re facing each other. The usually talkative speedster remains silent, and his eyes are wide with fear. “Just look past me at the sky. Can you do that?” Peter takes a breath before responding.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, now back up. One foot at a time, remember? Baby steps,” Slowly but surely, Peter backs his way to the end of the bridge and both men step off. The silver-haired boy sighs in relief and shakes out his limbs. Erik guesses he’s trying to shake off his fear. “See, that wasn’t so bad.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Peter says, and he’s back to his usual self. Erik can’t help but to wonder how the teen deals with sticky situations when he’s alone, and in doing so he realizes he’s been worrying about him for some time now. It’s an odd feeling, really, and it’s foreign to the older mutant. “Now, where’s that scary-ass demon at?”

“She’s inside the castle in the highest tower, waiting for us to rescue her,” Erik says with a straight face. Peter snorts.

“I was talking about the demon, man. Don’t be so rude to someone neither of us have met.”

“You can’t give me manners lessons when you don’t have any yourself, kid,” the lumberjack rolls his eyes, but his tone is amused. He steps through the tall main gate of the castle, rubble crunching under his boots. The main hall has an insanely high ceiling that opens to reveal the sky in two different spots. Stones from the walls lay strewn about, and a few ripped banners lay like fallen leaves scattered about.

“Nice decorating job.” Peter comments.

“Thanks,” a heavily accented voice responds. Both mutants whip around to find its source, but neither finds the face to which the voice belongs.

“Who are you?” Erik asks, still raking the entrance hall for the mystery speaker.

“I go by many names,” the voice says. A poofing noise echoes through the room, and suddenly there’s a boy with dark blue skin and almost familiar, piercing orange eyes. He’s wearing a bright red leather jacket which is extremely visible, and Erik wonders how he didn’t see the kid before. “Kurt Wagner is my given name, but I also go by ‘the incredible Nightcrawler’.”

“Do I have to say the ‘incredible’ part, or can I just call you Nightcrawler?” Peter asks with a smirk. The older mutant smacks the back of his head and gives him a look that tells him to shut up.

“You could just call me Kurt,” the boy says, looking down. If Erik didn’t know any better, he’d think he was blushing. Of course, the blue coloring didn’t help him to see. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you know,” Peter says, stepping forward and waving a hand. “We’re with Real Estate? This is one fine piece of property you’ve got here.” Kurt looks genuinely confused, and Erik sighs.

“Remember when you said I’d be doing the talking? This is a good time to let that happen,” the lumberjack breaks in. Kurt looks him in the eye for the first time, and he realizes that the kid vaguely resembles the red-haired, blue-skinned woman who he spoke to before leaving to solve the Trask problem. “We’re here to collect the princess who’s trapped here and bring her to wed the lord of Mutatia. Do you know where she is?”

“Uh, there is no princess here, sir. Just me and the professor. But if you try to remove either of us from the premise, I will be forced to remove the two of you immediately.” the ‘demon’ says, crossing his arms. Erik sees a flicker of movement behind the kid realizes he’s got a tail, which is now swishing around.

“Whoa, whoa. Wait. No princess?” Peter exclaims. “What the hell does that mean? We came here for nothing?” Kurt shrugs and gives the silver-haired mutant an apologetic look.

“I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, to be frank. We were told there would be a demon guarding the princess. This could all be an act to get us to leave,” Erik says, pushing up his sleeves slightly. “I might have to resort to… less than pleasant ways of asking you to tell the truth.” Kurt shakes his head and Peter looks between the two with a worried expression. 

“I have not told any lies today.” he says, tail curling into a spiral like a spring.

“Then how can there be no princess here?” Erik snaps. His fingers stiffen as he reaches out for any metal in the room. The iron candle holders on the walls groan and bend before finally snapping off and shooting towards Kurt. Erik throws his hand up and clenches his fist to stop the metal a few feet away from the blue boy in a floating rind. Kurt, however, disappears from the spot and reappears behind Peter. His tail snakes up until the point presses into the flesh of the teen’s throat.

“Dude, that thing is sharp!” the speedster yelps, straining away from the blue mutant’s grasp to no avail. After a painful, grumbling reminder from his stomach. Peter remembers that his hunger means weakened power and realizes he can’t run from this predicament. Erik spins to face the two boys and drops the candle holders on the floor with a clatter.

“Let him go, Kurt.” a new voice says. This time, when Erik looks for its source, he finds a man around his age with sideswept chestnut hair and eyes bluer than a cloudless sky. He forgets to speak for a moment and just stares. The man raises his gaze to meet Erik’s, and he somehow forgets all bodily functions. He says something and gives Erik a little smile, and says something else, but the lumberjack just keeps staring.

“Erik! Dude! You good?” Peter yells, kicking off one of his shoes so that it hits Erik in the leg. He snaps out of his odd trance to glare at the teen before noticing the expectant expression on the brown-haired man’s face. After a second, he notices that Kurt no longer has the kid in his grasp, and that they’re now standing next to each other facing the two older men.

“Could you repeat the question?” he asks, ignoring any minor embarrassment.

“Who are you, and who told you there was a princess here?” the man repeats.

“I’m Erik Lehnsherr. I’m here with that kid—”

“Hi, I’m Peter!” the teen interrupts.

“We were sent by Lord Trask of Mutatia to bring back the princess who lives here. He’s looking for a bride for unknown reasons.” Erik continues seamlessly. The man considers the statement for a moment before speaking. 

“Why did he send you, of all people?”

“I live on my own property in the forest outside of the kingdom. I woke up one morning and there was a huge crowd of mutants gathered there, saying they had to flee Mutatia because of some stupid laws Trask had passed. Naturally, I wanted those people out of my business, so I went to speak with Trask about changing that law so the people could go back to the kingdom and away from my home. He tried to get rid of me at first, but after realizing he couldn’t, he made a deal. If I bring back that princess, he gets those people out of my life.” Erik’s summary of his journey seems almost superficial to him. He did want those mutants off his property, but somehow, though he didn’t give two shits about any one of those people in particular, he wanted to make the kingdom laws right. Maybe Peter had rubbed off on him after two straight days of being alone with him.

“You seem nice,” Charles mutters under his breath. “Was one of the people on your lawn a blonde woman? She would’ve had some all-white outfit on. Probably a dress.”

“No.”

“Was there a man with red skin and a tail?” Kurt blurts out. Erik thinks for a moment and remembers a man of that description. He had an accent like Kurt, and that teleportation ability. 

“Actually, there was. He had powers like yours, too.” he tells the blue mutant.

“Professor! He knows my dad!” 

“Yeah, well, your dad stole a piece of my bread,” Erik grumbles. Charles, deep in thought, brings a hand up to his chin as his brows furrow. The lumberjack catches him muttering something about an ‘Emma’. He continues his train of thought for a few moments before shaking his head.

“Erik, Peter,” he begins. “Why don’t you two come join Kurt and I for a little tea? You look famished.”

“Oh, hell yes! I’m running on empty. Bless you, princess man.” Peter exclaims, grinning widely. Kurt gives him a confused look but doesn’t ask. Charles leads them up to an extravagant-looking dining hall. The table is a long rectangle of mahogany, and every seat at the table is set with silver utensils. Erik reaches out to see if he can move them, but there aren’t enough impurities for him to grasp in the metal to be able to move it.

“My dear companion left for the kingdom the other day when we ran out of my favorite Earl Grey, and he was the one who always made the tea. I’ve got to go make it, but I’ll be right back,” Charles apologizes.

“It’s okay, Professor. I can make it and be back in a jiffy.” Kurt says, disappearing in a puff of blue and black smoke from his spot next to Peter. The teen genuinely asks about there being an earl named Grey who lives at the castle as well, but Charles laughs because he thinks it’s just a joke. Erik chooses a seat near the end of the table, and the chestnut-haired man sits across from him. Peter chooses the seat directly to Erik’s right, which he surprisingly doesn’t mind.

“Okay, Erik, here’s the deal,” Charles says. “I have a friend named Emma Frost. She’s a mutant, and I fear she may have been captured by Trask. If this is true, then she must have told Trask to send men here to find me because she needs my help. Last time I spoke to her, she said she was going to try to find the ‘source of our suffering’. I guess this is what she meant.”

“Why would she say there was a princess here, then?” Erik asks. 

“She… I… well, it’s kind of a long story, but back in the day I was called the ‘Princess’. It’s not important. Actually, now that I think about it, you said Trask was the Lord of Mutatia?”

“Yes.”

“Wonderful!” Charles claps his hands together and the sound echoes through the large room. “That’s why.”

“Sorry, I’m not sure if I missed some important, psychic part of this conversation, but I don’t exactly get what’s so wonderful about Trask being the lord.” Peter comments with a shrug. Charles freezes for a moment, reacting as if Peter’s told his deepest, darkest secret, but after a moment he realizes the teen had been joking and he relaxes. Kurt reappears with a tray of four steaming mugs, which he places on the table in the center of the square he makes once he sits next to Charles.

“Thank you, Kurt,” the brown-haired man says, plunking three sugar cubes into his tea and pouring in a dash of milk. “If Trask is only the lord, then he doesn’t own the kingdom. So technically, the laws he creates are only temporary, and they can easily be replaced once a noble of a higher ranking takes his spot. Now, not to brag, but I’d say I’m a noble of exceedingly high ranking. I even had tea with the former Queen three times.” 

“Impressive,” Erik says, taking a sip of his piping hot tea without any additions. He almost gags because it’s so hot, and Peter sniggers. “So you could technically take control of the kingdom?”

“Well, it’ll take a bit of work, and I don’t really want to, but yes. I guess it’s better if I’m there instead of that false lord.” Charles blows on his tea delicately. Kurt fixes his own tea and uses his tail to fan on his absently, and Peter follows suit and puts way too much sugar in his. Erik doesn’t comment because he knows the teen’s absurd speed probably also applies to his metabolism. 

“Fantastic,” the silver-haired boy says, sticking his pinky out and drinking his tea.

“Wait, Professor, won’t that mean you’ll have to move from here?” Kurt asks suddenly.

“I guess so. It’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make for the greater good, though. Don’t worry, the royal palace is probably nicer than this.” Charles says with a smile. Erik wonders why the man who has everything would be so willing to throw it away for a bunch of people he’s never even met. The brown-haired man makes eye contact with him and widens his smile so it almost blinds him. “Even if I don’t know anyone in the kingdom, don’t you think it’s my responsibility to help them if I have the ability to?”

“S— er, sure,” the lumberjack stammers, blinking and looking down into the leafy brown depths of his teacup. It’s almost as if Charles read his mind. Telepaths did exist, though they’re rare. Maybe the man was one of the, but it was unlikely since nobles weren’t allowed to be mutants. It was as if the structure of a person’s DNA was controllable. Erik could imagine why Emma Frost had wanted to combat the system that constantly put mutants on the bottom of the hierarchy.

“Hey, Kurt, why do you call Charles the ‘Professor’?” Peter asks suddenly. He’s got this expression on that looks strangely like jealousy.

“Well, he took me in and taught me—” the blue mutant begins.

“I taught him the ways of society and nobility. When I found him as a child, he was practically enslaved by a travelling circus. I couldn’t stand to see a child so miserable.” the man says, giving his underling a frantic look.

“Uhh... yes. I like living with the Professor. He’s kind and generous, and I learn a lot.” Kurt finishes.

“Wait, how long ago was this? How old are you?” Peter asks.

“Probably around your age? I am not sure exactly since in the circus they celebrated the day you joined, not your actual birthday. I had been there since I was old enough to perform, which was not very old at all.” Kurt shrugs.

“Oh, I thought you were older,” Peter says, nodding. Erik can practically hear the gears turning in his head, and he worries about what his companion has planned for the other mutant. By the slight redness creeping up ever-so-slightly from the silver-haired teen’s collar, he can tell he shouldn’t have anything to worry about. The four men finish up their drinks and Kurt poofs the dishes away into the kitchen. Peter decides to join his new friend this time and zips over to the kitchen, leaving Erik alone with the unfairly beautiful man of the household.

“Erik, there’s actually a small problem with our plan,” he says quietly. The man of metal’s gaze shoots up into Charles’s and he sees a nervousness that wasn’t there a moment ago. “As soon as I take control of the kingdom, I’m going to have the same problem as Trask. I’m not a prince, so I won’t own the kingdom. I need to marry someone in power to solidify my spot at the castle.”

Erik somehow finds himself extremely bothered at the thought of Charles marrying some random princess or duchess. He averts his gaze and focuses on the tiny chip in the tea saucer in front of him.

“Okay. Do you know any single ladies who might be willing to get married to you? Or a girlfriend, perhaps?” Erik asks, taking note of the bitter taste in his mouth as he suggests Charles’s suitors. Said man pauses to think.

“Actually, there was this one woman. Lady McTaggert. Moira. I haven’t spoken to her in a while, so she may have married already.” he says, moving a hand to his chin in thought

“I don’t think we should ask her, then,” the lumberjack says quickly. 

“Oh, and there was that one time with Hank… we were just rebounding off each other from that horrible drinking party Logan threw, though. It was quite awkward bumping into him in the kitchen for a couple weeks after that. If I asked, he might comply, but he’s gone and gotten himself infatuated with a fellow he saw in Mutatia last month, so I wouldn’t want to force him into a marriage and ruin his chances.”

“Leave him be, then. How about you… marry Trask? And then kill him. You’d be killing two birds with one stone.” Erik suggests, secretly enjoying the fanfare going off inside his head. If Charles had fooled around with Hank, that meant he swung both ways. The lumberjack mentally punches himself in the gut at the thought. Yeah, he may have a chance with this beautiful, intelligent, desirable man, but he also has the mysterious and sorcerer of the forest persona. He has a reputation to keep, no matter how lonely it makes him. And besides that, he knows three important things: Charles is a grown man, he’s completely out of Erik’s league, and he can probably pick and choose anyone he wants because of his looks, personality, and status. Just thinking about it makes Erik deflate a little.

“No! There will be no killing as long as I’m involved,” Charles responds, reaching over the table to whack Erik’s hand. The phantom of the touch lingers on his skin, and Erik hates himself for craving more. “I’m sure I’ll find someone who’s willing to wed a boring, lonely old man like me.”

“You aren’t boring or old,” the lumberjack blurts out. He immediately bites his tongue and curses himself for saying such a stupid, obvious, idiotic statement. The man across the table gives him this unidentifiable look before smiling gently and trying to hide his expression. “I mean, what I meant to say was… when you talk, I want to listen. There’s something about you that makes me want to believe everything you say. So you’re not boring. And we seem to be around the same age, and neither of us are old.”

This time, Erik can see the slight redness creeping up Charles’s neck to his face. He’s almost mortified for having embarrassed his host before he spots Peter standing in the doorway to the kitchen, grinning widely and giving him two thumbs up. When Kurt stumbles out, he steps quite loudly, so Charles turns to look. The blue mutant’s face looks flushed, a darker than normal, and he seems a bit flustered, but Erik thinks nothing of it. Peter zips over to his seat beside him and elbows him in the side.

“Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, huh?” he whispers and Erik just shakes his head because he has no idea what he means. Kurt poofs his way over to his chair and sits quietly with his hands folded.

“Well, whether the plan’s solidified or not, Trask expects us back by tomorrow or the next day, so you should get ready to travel.” Erik points out, standing and pushing in his chair. “By the way, Kurt, you don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but it might be nice to have another powerful mutant on our side.”

“Ah, I am glad you think I will be useful,” the blue mutant says bashfully. He seems quite pleased that Erik approves of him. The older man nods and pushes his chair out to stand. Charles does the same.

“I suppose you’ll want to be leaving shortly, then?” Charles asks, an eyebrow raised. Erik nodded, and he gestured to Kurt. “Let’s go prepare. Erik, Peter, we’ll be back in a moment. Feel free to explore.” Kurt gave a thumbs-up before disappearing with Charles in a puff of black and blue smoke. 

“Dude, you know how this is supposed to go. You rescue the ‘princess’ and get to share true love’s kiss with her!” Peter says slyly, nudging the older man with an elbow. Erik rolls his eyes.

“Shut up. You’re the one who was fooling around in the kitchen. Speaking of which, what did you do to Kurt in there? I’m sure there’s a pure, wholesome answer to that.”

“Do you actually want to know, or are you just insulting me?” the silver-haired boy says with a grin.

“I should’ve known that you have no shame. If you say anything gross I will not hesitate to throw you into the rocky trench surrounding this castle.” the lumberjack says, shaking his head. Peter laughs, and soon after that the other two men return. Kurt holds a small leather bag, but besides that neither of the two seem to have needed to prepare much. 

“Let’s get crack-a-lackin’,” Peter exclaims, zipping over to hold open the door.


End file.
